


Valdemar Buttergood Is Up To Something

by Centeris2



Series: Evergray's Followers [9]
Category: Star Stable
Genre: Multi, Poly Pile AU, Rating for Language, Rebecca Has Friends AU, and some sex flirty talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 15:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16307486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Centeris2/pseuds/Centeris2
Summary: Rebecca finds out just how tricky Valdemar Buttergood can be. Junior's life gets worse but gains an ally.





	1. Chapter 1

The strange man from the weird shop showed up at Butter Hill one day, much to Junior’s displeasure. But he had whatever Daddy ordered so Junior was required to let him in, annoyed when the man went right up to Daddy’s bedroom.

“You can’t bother-” Junior tried to stop him before he could get into the room, but was ignored.

“Ah, Noach Cranepoulos, how is your sister?” Valdemar Buttergood said pleasantly, eyes on the brown bag in Noach’s hands.

“Doing well, now, I believe you have some items for me,” Noach said with a wide smile, glancing at the ornate desk in the room.

“You can’t demand-” Junior started, insulted for his Daddy.

“Junior, leave,” the order made Junior freeze and pale. Daddy wanted him to leave? But, why?

But he did as ordered, skittering out of the room, embarrassed and angry.

“Charming lad,” Noach smirked, handing the bag to Valdemar before going over to the desk.

“He needs work,” Valdemar admitted as he pulled out a bottle from the bag, studying it. The bottle itself was a tinted glass, shifting the contents within to a greener hue than they really were. 

“There have been better heirs in your family,” Noach teased, pulling out a blank book and a quill, placing them on the desk next to a stack of books.

“The past is always better,” Valdemar sneered, double checking the paper bag for anything else before he let it fall to the ground.

“You have three to choose from this time, right?” Noach asked, opening the first book from the stack and placing it directly above the blank book on the desk. The quill hovered for a moment before it started copying the text into the blank book. Noach sat at the desk, knowing it would take a while, and turned to look at the old man, watching the patriarch of the Buttergoods in his wheelchair.

“I never thought I’d be disappointed I didn’t have more options,” Valdemar mourned, pocketing the potion. Timing was important, he couldn’t use it now.

“I liked the first one I met,” Noach said as he leaned back, watching in amusement as Valdemar looked at him in confusion.

“You’ve met more than one?”

“Oh yes! I thought he was your heir if I may be frank,” Valdemar grimaced and rolled his eyes at the joke, “he was so very much like you!”

“If Junior wasn’t the first one you met, who was?” Valdemar asked, curious which of his sons resembled him more than Junior.

“Tall, dark, handsome,” Noach said slowly, teasing a bit, knowing that described all the Buttergoods. Any child of a Buttergood for that matter, the family was nothing if not attractive. 

“I half thought it was you from the past,” now that hint narrowed it down, Valdemar looking surprised now and making Noach laugh.

“Similar appearance does not mean matching temperament,” Valdemar scoffed, insulted now.

“Perhaps not, but an interest in magic and the occult? An attraction to powerful women? A hatred and rage just beneath the surface? Sounds like you,” Noach glanced back at the books, the quill was about half way through transcribing the book. Good. 

“Junior follows my personality more,” Valdemar sniffed, not liking the comparison.

“Really?”

“What?”

“That whelp? He moons over you like you’re his bitch mother still nursing him!” Noach snorted, but was amused by the annoyed expression in the old man.

“His obedience to me-”

“You’re a Buttergood for fucks sake! You should be suspecting him of poisoning you at any time to speed up his inheritance!” Noach interrupted, making Valdemar bristle. He didn’t like being interrupted or disrespected.

But Noach was right, the Buttergood family had a history of children insuring their status as heirs and hastening their inheritance. Valdemar himself had taken such measures. Being the oldest son meant nothing when a younger son was cleverer or stronger. 

“But yes, you’ve trained a very good slave,” Noach conceded, “hopefully when you pass he will continue his obedience to you and at least maintain the family name. If not out of ruthlessness, than at least out of devotion to your memory.”

“Don’t you have something to do?” Valdemar reminded his guest.

“Ah, yes, where is it?” Noach asked, looking at the desk once more. The quill had stopped, resting on the book it had been writing in. Noach switched the book above it with a new one, and the quill resumed its work.

“Second drawer down on the left, I unlocked it earlier. You should be able to tell which one,” Valdemar instructed, Noach nodding and putting on gloves before he opened the drawer. He spent a moment looking before he pulled out a little chest and closed the drawer. The chest was made of rowan wood, almost black from centuries of staining, with canine teeth forming the lock.

“Indeed,” Noach muttered, opening the chest and checking to see if the teeth inside were genuine, handling them carefully and not letting them touch his skin. 

“So?” Noach asked after some silence.

“What?”

“Do you really plan on keeping Junior as your heir?”

“He is my best bet at the moment,” Valdemar said with a shrug, or at least as best a shrug his frail body could manage.

“Tsk, does he even know about the family history? I’d hate for you to be the last Buttergood to visit my shop.”

“I will make sure my heir is well prepared.”

“Well that’s some weird phrasing,” Noach commented, glancing over at the old man, “you realize Heinrich never got that potion to work correctly, right?”

“If he had, he would be here, but it will serve my purposes,” Valdemar said, patting the potion bottle. 

“Strokes are a terrible thing,” Noach muttered, “it should at least ease the strain.”

“Well? Are they satisfactory?” Valdemar changed the subject, nodding toward the chest.

“Yes, though I admit I’d rather have a chance to look at more of your fine items,” Noach said with a glint in his eyes, “I’m up for a bit of negotiation in price…”

“Two books and a chest of teeth not enough?”

“Oh, well, the two books are almost done so I can’t return those, but I don’t have to take all the teeth…”

“Anything in particular?” 

“Anything you are willing to let me look at!” Noach chirped though he glanced about the room in excitement. Old families had old heirlooms, and on an island like Jorvik those heirlooms often had magic on them. 

“I don’t suppose I could offer you some organs,” Valdemar said, not joking in the slightest.

“I doubt you mean your own, and it isn’t ethical for me to take organs from your unwilling children.”

Valdemar snorted, “ethics?”

“Well, there is a time and place for forcibly taken objects… but such instances usually work best when it is fresh,” Noach admitted. 

“Ah, I didn’t realize it could work like that,” Valdemar noted, “but I’m not sure how many more raw ingredients I have for you. What I do have would be worth more than I owe.”

“Fair enough, and you won’t give me a list of items to peruse.”

“Of course not,” Valdemar snorted, such information was to be guarded. 

“Books and teeth then, I suppose,” Noach said a bit sadly, closing the chest up and locking it once more.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Cranepoulos.”


	2. Chapter 2

Rebecca was skeptical and on edge when Junior stopped her in Crescent Moon Village, saying his daddy wanted to see her. She wasn’t exactly interested in walking into a trap, but the way Junior looked so grumpy and bitter intrigued her. Had she really gotten him into that much trouble with her petty pranks?

That at least made her smirk as she headed into Butter Hill. She snorted a laugh when Valdemar Buttergood ordered Junior out of his bedroom, Junior muttering curses under his breath on his way out. 

“Junior disappointing you?” Rebecca asked, sneering a bit, “I can’t help you with that.”

“No, you can’t, but you have a habit of helping people, and you can help me,” Valdemar got to the point.

“And why would I do that?” Rebecca asked, crossing her arms.

“For Scott, of course,” Valdemar said, not surprised when she barked a laugh.

“You can’t touch him,” she informed him. Scott was safe and protected, unless Valdemar had ways to get through magic barriers. Ydris and Evergray’s Followers had been very thorough.

“It is not a stick, but a carrot I offer,” Valdemar said pleasantly, “I assure you, if you assist me I will make it worth your while.”

“And what is it you want me to do?” 

“Heal me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Strokes have ruined my body and my mind, I am only so clear headed now through a great deal of therapy. But my body…” he glanced down at his right side, lifting a shaky arm, “is weak.”

“You want me to make you strong again?” she snorted.

“I want you to stop the pain. Every day I am trapped in this fragile body, in agony,” he didn’t mention that much of his current pain was due to him over exerting himself when beating Junior and torturing Scott. Best to leave out that bit. 

“You want magic painkillers?” Rebecca asked and he nodded, “what’s in it for me?”

“I will disown Junior, publicly, and remove him as heir to the Buttergood estate. Scott shall receive a permanent allowance to do whatever he wishes, but I assure you it will be enough for him to live comfortably at the very least.”

“And what will you do without an heir?”

“I will determine which of my remaining sons will receive it,” Valdemar promised.

“But it will not go to Junior?” Rebecca double checked, not wanting him to worm around fuzzy verbal promises.

“Junior will never again be my heir, or in my will,” Valdemar swore.

“Do we have a deal?”

Rebecca was quiet, thinking for a moment. It wasn’t her place to decide such matters, but it would make sure Scott was taken care of. Would Scott even want his father’s money? If he refused it, she could always suggest he give it to charity or some other good cause. That’d no doubt give Valdemar another stroke if he found out his money was going to help orphans or rescued animals or some other good cause.

“Deal,” Rebecca said after some silence, stepping toward and offering her hand to confirm the deal. Valdemar sighed in relief, taking her hand and trying to shake it firmly, but there was little strength in his grip, and she could feel him trembling from weakness.

“This may feel strange, may I touch your skull?” she warned and asked permission, and he nodded, bowing his head slightly toward her. She sighed and gently laid her hands on his head, closing her eyes as she focused. She had experience with stroke victims, but being able to see and feel the damage like this was completely different from watching people suffer from the aftermath. 

Valdemar sighed again, not the little sigh like before, but a deep sigh from his core as he felt the pain in his head ease and the feeling return to his body. He felt solid again, the vague sensations from his limbs returning to a very real feeling. It no longer felt like phantom limbs that he barely felt and controlled, it was… real. His body felt real again, real and connected and responsive. Age had still taken his strength, but he could feel again, his fingers and toes responded immediately to his orders to move, control returned to his body. 

And then his strength began to return, his hunched back straightening and his body returning to what it was, and Rebecca opened her eyes when he began to laugh.

“What the?!” Rebecca gasped, pulling away and taking a step back as she watched, bewildered as Valdemar glowed, his joints popping as he straightened and flexed. The wrinkles stretched and faded away into his skin, some color returning to his grey flesh. His hair turned black, thick tresses rolling down from his head and over his shoulders, which were now broad and upright. He stepped up from his wheelchair, towering over her, chuckling and smirking to himself as he felt his face, his hair, his beard, and then down his body to his shoulders and arms and chest.

“Yes, you may touch me whenever you like,” Valdemar said in a teasing voice, much deeper and stronger now, looking down at Rebecca who was staring up at him in bewilderment.

“See something you like?” he sneered.

“You…” she couldn’t quite bring herself to say he looked just like Scott. Or, more specifically, Scott looked like him. Did Scott know how much he took after his father? Valdemar was a bit more slender, and his face a bit longer, but Rebecca had a feeling that was because his body had withered so much with age, no doubt food and exercise would buff him up.

“How?” she managed to ask, positively sure that she had just healed his brain and nervous system. She didn’t even think she could reverse age someone. Was that a thing she could do? Apparently.

“Old family recipe, it was just missing an important ingredient, thank you for supplying the missing bit,” he jeered, leaning over her and making her take a step back.

That was when it clicked in her head and she realized what she had done. Of course he would disinherit Junior, he didn’t need an heir anymore. He could make new ones, he physically looked to be mid twenties to early thirties… 

“Oh god,” Rebecca muttered, realizing she had been tricked.

“Now, Junior! Get in here!” he called, his deep voice booming and making her jump.

Junior entered, staring at his father.

“What…?” he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“You are hereby no longer my heir, though I will be generous and permit you to continue working for me. I do believe there is a tool shed you can take up residence in,” Valdemar sneered at his own son, relishing the look for horror and hurt.

“But… you can’t!” Junior stammered, trying to process what had happened.

“Now, Miss Lightknight, if there is anything else…” he stepped closer to her, amused when she stepped back, not wanting to touch him.

“I… I believe that is all,” she managed before she turned and left in a hurry, cheeks red with embarrassment and fear. Valdemar was supposed to be worse than Junior, that’s what the residents of Crescent Moon Village said. And she had just healed him and somehow turned him into a young man once more. What had she done? What would he do? Magic was involved somehow, obviously, but not just hers. He had done something, used her somehow. She knew she couldn’t have done that alone, there was something else… he had done something to do something to her magic, making it heal him more, restore him somehow. How was that possible? An old family recipe? Maybe Pi or Ydris knew of a potion or spell that could do that…


	3. Chapter 3

Scott was surprised by a knocking at his door. His friends and lovers had generally been good about giving him space, only bothering him to let him know food had been made. He couldn’t smell anything like food, what could they have made that didn’t smell?

He opened the door regardless, surprised to see Rebecca looking down at the ground, shoulders hunched in on herself. Why did she look so guilty?

“Scott, you’re gonna be mad at me. Promise me you’ll only yell at me for a few minutes?” she asked, glancing up at him.

“Why would I be mad at you?” he asked, confused.

“Trust me, you’re gonna be mad. And you can be mad at me for as long as you want, just only yell at me for a little bit, okay? Promise?”

“What did you do?”

“Promise?” she pleaded, looking up at him with big, blue, begging eyes.

“Fine, I’ll only yell at your for… I dunno, five minutes. I promise. Now-” to his surprise she whipped out her phone and set a timer for five minutes, handing it to him.

“Okay, so…” she sighed and took a deep breath, mouth moving for a moment before she sighed again, shoulders slumping. 

“What happened?” Scott asked, trying to encourage her to continue.

“I… uh… well um… the good news… um. I…” she stammered, blushing and looking at her feet and shuffling.

He didn’t say anything, waiting for her to tell him.

“Ikindofreverseagedyourdadandnowhe’slike30yearsoldagain don’t hate me!” she said in a rush, Scott blinking and only getting a few of those words.

“What?”

“I-” she hiccuped, Scott surprised by tears in her eyes when she looked up at him, sheepishly, “I didn’t know! I don’t know how! I thought I was just healing Valdemar but then he started glowing and now he’s like 30 years old again! I don’t know!”

“You what!?” Scott shouted, feeling guilty immediately as Rebecca winced.

“I don’t know! I was just healing him from his stroke damage-”

“You were healing him!? Why would you do that?!” 

“He said he would disinherit Junior, I didn’t realize-”

“He’s a monster! Why- how could you be so stupid as to trust him! He’s always scheming and planning!” 

“I didn’t know-”

“Of course you didn’t know! You don’t think! You just rush into things you don’t understand consequences be damned! And why would you ever want to help him? Who gives a fuck if Junior inherits shit? Let him have everything!”

“Well he is disinherited now…”

“So what!? If Father really is young again he’ll just have more kids he’ll groom into monsters! Is that what you wanted?!”

“I wanted to ease an old man’s pain-”

“He deserves any pain he gets! He’s a fucking monster! A sadistic, cruel, evil, monster!” 

“Has it been five minutes yet?” Rebecca murmured, shrinking more when Scott groaned and threw up his hands.

“Fuck if I know! I didn’t start the timer!” he snarled before shoving the phone back to her, “now who knows what he’ll do! Fuck, if he knows about magic… actual magic… what else can he do?”

“He won’t come after you,” Rebecca muttered, starting the timer.

“Oh really? Why not?”

“Part of the deal was he give you the money to live comfortably-”

“Oh for fucks- seriously? What, are you going to say you did all this for me?”

“It seemed like a good deal, he feels better in his last years, you get money to live away from him, and Junior gets disowned.”

“Oh that’s a GREAT deal! How could that possibly go wrong!? I wonder how someone who is basically the devil could possibly twist that around!”

“I know…” Rebecca sighed, “we need to get you out of Jorvik.”

“What? Now you’re worried about me?!”

“He doesn’t need to pay for you if you are dead,” Rebecca pointed out, watching the timer on her phone. 

“Oh fuck…” Scott groaned, but he wasn’t screaming anymore, “and Junior is going to have it out for me as well…”

“I’m so sorry, I just wanted to help…” Rebecca sniffled, rubbing her nose.

“Fuck,” Scott muttered, hating to see her cry, “Becca…”

“I’m so stupid!” Rebecca hissed, rubbing away tears.

“You didn’t know, you don’t know him like I do. I didn’t even know he knew about magic!” he said, much quieter now, feeling awful for yelling at her and blaming her. 

“I should have known it was a trick somehow!”

“How were you supposed to know he could somehow use you to make himself young again?”

“I don’t know but I should have! Somehow!” she sniffled and rubbed her nose again, “he said it was an old family recipe missing an ingredient?”

“Huh?” that made Scott confused, he had never heard of anything like that.

“I guess he never talked about it?” she glanced up, curious.

“No, although, there are all those family history books… I read them when I was- oh fuck,” Scott hissed and put his hand over his eyes, groaning, “fuck fuck FUCK!”

“What?”

“The Buttergoods have been on Jorvik for centuries, there were all sorts of stories in those old books about magic and potions, fuck!” Scott moved past Rebecca into the main room so he could pace and think out loud, “I thought it was just fantasy stuff, you know, dramatic tales and family legends to make our ancestors look better. But maybe… with you guys… fuck, it may have been true.”

“What sort of stories?” Rebecca asked, following him and sitting down to watch him pace.

“Autobiographies basically, stories about battles and how much power so-and-so gained in their lifetime and how awesome they were, magic and witches and werewolves and all sorts of things. God… if half of those spells and potions actually work…”

“But if they did, wouldn’t he have used them already?” Rebecca asked, grabbing a tissue from a box on the coffee table to clean up her face.

“Maybe he can’t use magic, but you don’t need magic to use potions…”

“He said there was a missing ingredient, and I supplied it, any idea what he may have used? If we can figure out what it was, we may be able to undo it…”

“Fuck if I know, I read all those books so long ago… I don’t remember much in terms of details.”

“So, we need to find the recipe, or find someone who knows it, there has to be someone who knows it. And we know at least one of the ingredients, and what it does, kind of anyway. We know I somehow supplied an ingredient, and we know it returned him to a youthful state.”

“Fuck…” Scott groaned and sat down next to Rebecca, head in his hands, “I… fuck…”

“I am sorry.”

“I know. You just… you don’t know… you didn’t know… I was so happy after he had his stroke because… because he wasn’t so scary. He couldn’t hurt me as much, now…”

“I am so sorry,” Rebecca said again, feeling awful.

“Bobby.”

“What?”

“We need to get Bobby out of there. If I’m not there to… to take it…” Rebecca hesitated, afraid to touch Scott. He still didn’t like when people touched him, but she wanted to comfort him. She closed her hand and withdrew, not wanting to make it worse.

“You took the brunt of the abuse?” she asked quietly, glancing at him to watch his reaction. He nodded and swallowed, looking away.

“You’re very gooey.”

“‘Gooey’?” he asked, surprised.

“Yes, you’re basically a marshmallow under that mean scowl,” she said with a hint of a smile before it faded, “it’s just sad how your kindness shows.”

“What do you mean?”

“Here I am telling you to get the fuck out before Valdemar can kill you so he doesn’t have to honor the deal, and you’re worried about Bobby. And that’s not something being friends with me did, you just proved it.”

Scott snorted and looked away.

“No, I’m being serious, you said so yourself, you took the abuse to protect Bobby, didn’t you?”

Scott didn’t say anything, looking down at his hands.

“You’re a good person, Scott, I think you always were.”

“Fuck, Becca,” he choked a laugh, looking up and away and blinking rapidly, blushing a bit, surprised by how much that meant to him, “I’m not-”

“Oh yes you are, you are good and kind and very sweet,” Rebecca said with a smile, refraining from touching him despite how much she wanted to. 

“You’re just trying to butter-” he choked and Rebecca snorted a laugh.

“Puns, ehh?”

“I didn’t mean-! You’re just trying to flatter me!”

“No no, I’m buttering you up. Got a knife and I am laying it on thick!” she teased now before a thought occurred to her, “why do I get the feeling you’d be into knife play?”

“Becca…” he said slowly before he smirked, “is there a mare around?”

“No!” Rebecca blushed, “that’s not why I thought of it! I just… did!”

“Oh really? No mares in heat making your stallion go crazy?” he teased, thrilled by her blush.

“No! None today at least… stop laughing! It’s very inconvenient!” she whined as his grin turned from chuckling into full blown laughter at her expression.

“You try being soul bound to a stallion and see how well you do!” she complained.

“The others don’t have that problem,” he pointed out.

“Fine! You try being empathetically soul bound to a stallion!” 

“I’ll get right on that,” he snorted, wiping his eyes, amused by how she was pouting with her bottom lip stuck out and her arms crossed over her chest.

“Guess I really am a big meanie,” he teased.

“You are the marshmallowest meanie there is,” she pouted and stuck her tongue out at him, “there isn’t a mean bone in your body. At most you got like, a mean muscle somewhere. A small one. Probably one of the tiny ones in a hand.”

“You keep that tongue in your mouth, missy,” he mock ordered.

In response she stuck it out again with a childish, “mleh! Bleh bleh bleeeeh!” and blew her tongue at him.

“Oh sorry!” she apologized immediately when she got spit on him, “I didn’t mean to be gross!”

“Oh no, cooties, whatever will I do?” he snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Cooties are very contagious,” she informed him seriously.

“The world health organization will have to quarantine this building then,” he joked. She was glad he was relaxed and smiling.

“I really am sorry, and I will figure out how to fix it,” she said seriously. Scott sighed and rolled his eyes.

“You really know how to kill a mood,” he complained.

“There was a mood?”

“You were sticking your tongue out of course there was a mood!”

“Oh, I thought, you, well, weren’t ready for physical contact,” she admitted, scratching the back of her head as she looked away.

“Well…” he didn’t finish his sentence, looking at her, his lips barely parted. 

“You can restrain me if you would prefer, gives you more control,” she offered.

“That-” Scott’s phone buzzed in his pocket, making the pair glance at his pants.

“Justin wants to know where I am,” Scott said after reading the text, confused.

“Bobby!” Rebecca remembered and jumped up, “I need to get him somewhere safe! You should stay here, you’ll be safe here!”

“But-”

“I promise I’ll get Bobby somewhere safe from your dad and Junior,” Rebecca promised.

“Let me find out why Justin is asking where I am before you go,” Scott requested, not liking how Rebecca grimaced.

“He probably saw your father,” she guessed, wincing.

“Why would…?”

“Tall, dark, and handsome runs in the family, and if Justin only saw him from a distance…” Rebecca didn’t want to admit how much Valdemar looked like Scott now.

“Good point,” Scott muttered, texting Justin back. Rebecca waited for Justin to reply.

“Yeah, I think you are right,” Scott informed her when Justin replied, “Justin said he saw someone riding around Butter Hill, but knew it wasn’t Junior or Bobby.”

“I’ll let you know when I’ve got Bobby somewhere safe,” Rebecca promised. If Valdemar was already roaming about he may have hurt Bobby already.


	4. Chapter 4

Bobby, thankfully, was unharmed, as he happened to be at Pamela’s when everything went down. After a bit of messaging CHILL members Bobby was placed in a safe house in New Hillcrest. Just to be safe they decided to move Bobby with as much secrecy as possible, in a cart at night in the most round about way to avoid getting too close to Butter Hill.

Rebecca, however, did not need to partake in that operation, so she watched Butter Hill while Bobby hid in Pamela’s house. With binoculars she was able to watch Junior moving into the tool shed, no doubt regretting that he had busted it up now he had to live in it. She knew she would have to be careful, he would want revenge. He could also jeopardize her position in GED, she would need to do something to protect herself there. 

Valdemar was another matter, and Rebecca watched warily as the newly-young man rode around his property, surveying it for himself for the first time in who knew how long. He must have wasted no time in getting a horse from Crescent Moon Village. 

But she couldn’t waste all her time watching her new threat, she needed to find out how to stop him before he could do any damage.

Frederik, unfortunately, had no clues about what Valdemar may have done or used, so Rebecca headed toward Pi. 

“Hello, dearie,” Pi called to Rebecca as she rode over the scaffolding.

“I have questions!”

“When don’t you,” Pi chuckled to herself, waiting for Rebecca to get up to the house and dismount before asking, “how can I help?”

“A couple things today,” Rebecca said with a sigh, “first, is there any sort of potion for reverse aging?”

“Of course there are,” Pi shrugged, not stopping in her stirring her cauldron.

“Okay, are there any potions for reverse aging that require me to do something?”

“Explain,” Pi asked after a few moments of trying to figure out what she meant.

“So, I, uh, managed to reverse age someone when healing them. They said it was thanks to some old family recipe that was missing an ingredient and I gave them the last ingredient or something?”

“‘Old family recipe’?”

“The Buttergoods, if that matters?” Rebecca added, quiet while Pi thought.

“What were you doing, exactly?”

“I, uh, was healing Valdemar Buttergood, so he wasn’t in pain from his strokes anymore.”

“And then?”

“And then he just started… glowing? And unaging? He looks like he’s maybe 30 years old now!”

“Glowing? Fascinating, what sort of glow?”

“Uh, the glowy kind? White light, soft, it wasn’t blinding or anything, and all over his body. Also his hair grew if that matters? He still looked frail, but his hair was full and colored, and he was definitely standing up straight,” she explained, Pi tapping her lips as she thought.

“Sounds like something that mixed with your light magic. The Buttergood family has been interested in a variety of magical areas of study, it must have been a recipe for healing, immortality, longevity, something to do with extending life.”

“I could have made him immortal?” Rebecca whispered, horrified.

“Possibly, but it would no doubt be an effective immortality, not total immortality.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Total immortality would mean nothing can kill him, no illness or injury. You could lop off his head and burn his body and he’d live. But effective immortality is more likely, it is much easier than total.”

“How much easier?”

“Effective immortality just means you won’t die of old age, but illness and injury could still kill you. However it is not the same as eternal youth, so he may just now age forever until illness or injury kills him.”

“Okay how do I undo it?”

“Well there is the cut off his head option.”

“I don’t want to kill him,” Rebecca groaned, “unless I have to.”

“Well without knowing what exactly you did, or more specifically what he did, I can’t help you make an antidote. Any other questions?”

“Actually, yes,” Rebecca sighed, sitting down next to the cauldron, “I want some mind control potion.”

“You?” Pi asked, alarmed, “what for?”

“Eventually Ms. Drake and GED will figure out what I’m doing, and I would rather have an ace up my sleeve than be screwed. I don’t want total mind control, I just…” Rebecca sighed and rubbed a hand through her hair, “I want some way to occasionally control people. Like have a key word or phrase that makes them do what I order. But it needs to be a long term thing, I won’t know when they’ll find out and it isn’t practical to just drug all the GED employees I can find on a daily basis. And ideally I want them to only answer to me, I don’t want it to be like a suggestion potion where they are susceptible to anyone.”

“That is very complicated,” Pi admitted.

“I know, but I mean, it’s magic, it can do anything, can’t it?”

“No, magic just makes it seem like you can do anything,” Pi corrected, Rebecca snorting and rolling her eyes.

“Ah, yes, appearances and perception,” Rebecca muttered, recalling her lessons with Ydris. 

“Why don’t you make it?” Pi suggested, making Rebecca blink and stare for a moment.

“I’m asking you if it can even be done!” Rebecca managed.

“You’re smart, you’ve learned things from Ydris, Frederick, and I. Use it. I’ll help. Now, go, think,” Pi bid her with a wave of her hand, encouraging her.

“Well, um, I don’t know how to make suggestion or mind control potions, or how to make them bound to one person. The one the druids used didn’t last long, basically lasting as long as the digestion of the food it was on. I’d need to make it stay in their system for longer, way more than a few hours. So however it gets into their system it needs to last longer, maybe like… something in their bloodstream that takes a long time to be filtered out? Inhaled and in their lungs? Something like LSD that crosses the blood brain barrier and alters their brain? That’s just so creepy,” Rebecca grimaced, thinking out loud.

“Maybe I could bind it to me by putting some of myself into it? Hair or blood or something, something that is unique to me that the spell would react to. But how would I make it only triggered by a keyword? I don’t want them to do whatever I say all the time, that would make the element of surprise go away and I’ll need that if things go bad. Is any of this making sense? Or even remotely close to accurate?” Rebecca asked, looking at Pi for guidance. The witch gave none, shrugging and tasting her latest brew.

“Ugh, but I still have no idea what sort of ingredients go into a suggestion or control potion, if there is a common theme or if there are different combinations that have the same effect. And I don’t want to make a brand new potion and turn people in experiments! That’s why I was hoping there would be one already that I could just… make!”

“Sounds like you’re giving up quickly,” Pi commented.

“I’ve already made a mess of things by doing stuff I don’t understand,” Rebecca muttered, “and I don’t remember what the suggestion potion for the druids contained. Flowers from Avalon’s house I think, but there would have been more than that. Can I at least look at your books?”

“Of course, there is nothing wrong with research,” Pi chuckled, amused by Rebecca’s happy squeal and scramble to the bookshelf inside the hut.

With books to skim Rebecca fell silent, studying and looking for ideas. Pi told her she could take one book home to study and come back for another, as the witch knew Rebecca would read until she fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Junior’s life was awful. That cunt had come in and ruined everything! He should have been thrilled that Daddy was better and… young? What had that witch done? It must have been her. Obviously it was her making him better, but she must have bewitched Daddy to make him disown his oldest son and heir!

Now he was forced to move into the tool shed? This was horse shit.

Literally, why was there horse shit in here, that wasn’t there before. Probably had to do with the fact that the door had been busted in. Junior regretted doing that now that it mean he’d be sleeping on the dirt floor without even a door to close. 

He had to go back to that weird magic shop, he had to find out what they gave Daddy, and how to save him from that succubus and get his revenge. Everything had gone wrong when she showed up, and he wanted everything fixed and perfect like it was before. He wanted his life back. 

And he knew, he KNEW, she was doing something to GED. He had no proof, but machines going haywire, things breaking, reports missing, it must have been her fault. But Ms. Drake was a stupid bitch, and he certainly didn’t want to deal with that woman further. There had to be someone in GED who would listen to him and start following that girl, they’d find out she was sabotaging GED, and they’d make her pay. And Junior would get rewarded, he’d be able to get control of Butter Hill with or without some stupid inheritance. 

“You!” Junior snarled as he burst into the old bookstore, Noach Cranepoulos looking up from the counter.

“Shouting is not necessary,” Noach said calmly, not amused by the grumpy Buttergood storming up to him.

“I need something to break a spell!”

“Can you be more specific?” Noach asked.

“Some bitch cast a spell on Daddy!”

“What type of spell?” Noach sighed, annoyed he wasn’t getting actual information.

“Some seductress mind control I don’t know! And she made him young?” Junior added the last part, still bewildered by his father’s appearance.

“Young?” that caught his attention.

“Yeah who cares! What matters is-”

“No, it matters. He looks young? How young?”

“Like a young guy? I don’t know, 25 or 30 or something?”

“Prime condition?”

“Yeah! So what- wait, you know?”

“Well shit, how did he manage that?” Noach muttered, thinking it over.

“I told you! Some cunt magicked him!”

“Who?”

“I told you! A cunt bitch!”

“A name or description,” Noach groaned, rubbing his forehead.

“Tiny little bitch slut I’d like to break in half!”

“You are awful at being helpful,” Noach mumbled.

“Oh fuck you, she’s like, tiny short, about up to here on me, rides horses, huge tits, wears long sleeves and gloves all the time for some reason, long blond hair, white, oh and she’s got an ass like… mmph,” Junior groaned and mined thrusting, Noach rolling his eyes. 

“Thanks for that visual,” Noach muttered.

“There now you know what she looks like now tell me how to break her curse!”

“I doubt she cursed your daddy, she,” he paused and thought, realizing something, “she just healed him. That’s it!” he laughed and slammed his hand on the counter, “that clever fuck!”

“What?”

“Oh never mind, but yeah, she didn’t do anything to your daddy except heal him back to his prime,” Noach informed the grumpy Buttergood.

“Fine, then how do I get back at her! Give me something to fuck her up!” 

“And what would you pay with?” Noach asked with a raised eyebrow.

Junior opened his mouth to declare money before he remembered this man didn’t care about money. 

“What do you want?” Junior asked. Noach snorted.

“If you have to ask how to pay me then you really shouldn’t have anything I can make,” Noach informed him. 

“What’s that supposed to mean!?”

“That means you have no idea what you are dealing with, and I don’t deal with clueless fools. Unless you want to buy a book or a knick knack with shillings I don’t think you have any further business here.”

“Fine, then teach me!” Junior demanded, Noach snorting a laugh.

“This isn’t a school, you want a teacher go find one. Now are you going to buy a book or not?”

Junior stomped out of the store, heading toward GED’s office in Jorvik City.

“Complaints may be sent in the mail to our complaint office at-” the tired looking receptionist began, guessing by Junior stomping into the building that he wanted to complain. That’s what most people did when they stomped in.

“I’m not here to complain! I’m-” Junior stopped for a moment, realizing he was in fact here to complain, but not about GED, “I need to see a manager! Or supervisor! Some high up person!”

“Do you have an appointment,” the receptionist asked, clearly not impressed.

“No, but, I am Junior Buttergood!”

The receptionist’s bored expression did not change.

“You know, the Buttergoods, from- never mind. Point is the GED and my family have a contract but I know someone is sabotaging us! I demand to talk to someone important!”

“Mmmhmm. What sector is your family under?”

“Sector?”

“What part of Jorvik.”

“Butter Hill, Southern Harvest Counties,” he said, managing to be somewhat helpful in his answer for once.

“Ms. Drake has that sector, to file a complaint go to the GED office in-”

“No I think Ms. Drake is part of it!”

That made the receptionist finally change their bored expression to one of faint confusion.

“And you have proof?”

“Well, uh, not like, photo evidence or anything,” Junior admitted, “but I demand to see someone!”

“If you would like to file a slander complaint-”

“What does that even mean?! I shouldn’t even be talking to you you’re not even important! I DEMAND that you call whoever is above Ms. Drake-”

“Oh goodness, someone seems upset,” a patronizing voice cut off Junior’s rantings, making Junior spin around and glare at the man.

“I am trying to find someone important to talk to about someone sabotaging GED! But apparently this company doesn’t care about being ruined!” Junior snapped at the broad man.

“Oh? Someone new is sabotaging GED? What tree hugger is crying in front of a bulldozer now?”

“Some girl named Lightknight that pretends to be working for Ms. Drake!” Junior exploded, not keeping calm at all.

Lucky for Junior, the name struck a chord with the man. 

“Rebecca Lightknight?” the man asked, Junior’s surprised expression bringing out that charming smile and an offered hand, “Kembell, pleasure to meet you. I do believe we can help each other greatly.” 

 

Ms. Drake groaned as a call from the head office came in, Kembell’s voice greeting her. How she hated that man, he was a fool.

“Ms. Drake, how are things?” Kembell asked pleasantly.

“If you were literate you might read my reports,” Ms. Drake snapped before she purred, “and you would know I am doing far better than you.”

“Tell me,” Mr. Kembell fought back the urge to fight, “are you aware you have a spy in your midst? A little saboteur?”

“If there are any leaks in this company they are not in my area,” Ms. Drake snorted.

“And what would you call employing a Miss Lightknight?” Kembell teased. He was surprised by Ms. Drake’s laugh. 

“I think, Kembell, you should check my employee list,” she informed him.

“So the reports that she was seen going to and from your office?” 

“What’s the matter, angry a little girl had two brain cells and got you fucked? You can check the records, she is not an employee, but I will admit I personally contract her, and if you read my reports you would note she is mentioned quite often as an invaluable presence in the field, productivity has skyrocketed here, not to mention she assisted in a new lawsuit that will get us a valuable piece of land.”

“Oh really? And where is that?”

“Butter Hill, the family was being useless and actively ruining operations,” Ms. Drake gloated. That information made Kembell glance at Junior, who was in the office with the businessman. 

“You realize she is recognized as an eco-terrorist?” Mr. Kembell tried to frighten the woman, only to be met by laughter again.

“Only if ‘smart enough to read stolen serial numbers’ means she’s an eco-terrorist. Now, Kembell, it has been a delight as always, but I have some rather large projects that need my attention. Have a good day wasting your time,” Ms. Drake bid him farewell and hung up before he could say anything.

Her smile faded and she leaned back into her chair, thinking. She should have Rebecca followed, just in case. It would be better to have all the information available on her before Kembell did. And if Rebecca really was trying to screw her over Ms. Drake would make sure the girl would pay.

“Are you, by chance, doing this because of the lawsuit?” Kembell asked Junior, furious now.

“The sabotaging was her! She kept stealing away Scott from his job, and when she showed up there were suddenly a lot more ‘accidents’ that she no doubt caused! I know she is fucking shit up and I want her to pay!” Junior raged, skipping out on the magical part. Best not mention that lest he sound crazy.

“So do I,” Kembell muttered, “I just want to strangle that little neck of hers and make her watch while I kill that nag of hers!”

“And break her and make her beg for mercy!” Junior growled, “there has to be something we can do!”

“An opportunity will present itself, if we watch,” Kembell thought aloud. She was partial to her horses, she had to have a place somewhere that she boarded them. An accident could happen… And now Kembell had found an ally in mutual hatred for the girl.


End file.
